Scenes That Won't Leave Me Alone
by plinker5x5
Summary: A place to store my as yet unused scenes and short one-shots.  Mostly H/Hr fluff.  Some canon, some not. Rated T just in case.  Read A/N in first chapter for more.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Inspired by "Bella in the Abyss" and her "Visions of Drabbles Dance in My Head", I've decided to start a series of my own one-shot short stories. Most of these will be scenes that have popped in my head, unbidden. Like my other stories, they won't go away until I write them down (pesky things). Some of these scenes may be used in later stories, and some may never go anywhere at all. Also, like my other stories, most of these will revolve around exploring the Harry and Hermione relationship, be it canon or pure non-canon fantasy, though I can't guarantee they all will be about those two alone. I'm an incurable romantic, so many of these stories will be complete fluff, like this first one._

_Standard disclaimers apply: I'm not J.K. Rowling. I claim no rights or ownership over any of the characters, concepts, or storylines written by J.K. Rowling. I am "borrowing" her characters and universe for a bit of self-indulgent fantasy and parody and will not earn or claim any financial reward from it. I also admit that some of the scenes may be similar to ones read elsewhere in fan-fiction, but are presented through my own words and imagination. There are few truly original ideas out there, just differing visions of how to describe them. If you doubt me, just compare the plotline of any current movie to Shakespeare's plays or Greek myths, or compare a sitcom today to an episode of "I Love Lucy"._

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><p><span>Year Two<span>

"Um, Hermione?" Harry said, bending forward to whisper softly into his friend's ear.

"Yes, Harry?" she whispered back, leaning toward him conspiratorially, wondering what he was going to tell her that caused him to wait until Ron was gone.

The bushy-haired, thirteen year-old girl was sitting in her bed in the Hospital Wing with rolls of parchment, open textbooks, and empty chocolate frog wrappers strewn about. Harry brought the treats for her, but it was no surprise when Ron ate most of them. She didn't mind. She was just happy that they both came to visit her. Not being able to attend classes was excruciating for the young bookworm. The boys shared their lecture notes with her and the three did their homework together. It was nice having friends, Hermione thought, happily.

Over the afternoon and into the evening their conversation had drifted from schoolwork to the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione gave them more ideas to research in the Library. Eventually the evening became night and Madame Pomfrey came by, telling them that visiting hours were about to end. Ron left immediately, but Harry stuck around for a few moments afterwards to speak with her, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

"Um," he stammered, seemingly uncertain how to continue now that he'd started. "Well, I…I don't think Ron noticed, but ever since we came in, you've sort of been…um…purring."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing fiercely and covering her mouth with both hands. She was still recovering from the unfortunate incident with the polyjuice potion that left her half cat and half human. While Madame Pomfrey was able to sort things out, it was just taking time for the reverse transformation to be complete, days actually, which was why she was still confined to the Hospital Wing. Her fur and whiskers were mostly gone now, and she looked almost totally human again.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione squeaked. "Madame Pomfrey said I'd still show some feline tendencies for a few days yet. Sometimes I don't even know I'm doing it. At least the tail's gone," she said with an embarrassed chuckle. "I kept knocking over her potion bottles with it. Though I do still have cravings for cream." She said the latter as she absentmindedly started to bat around a crumpled wrapper from one of the chocolate frogs, smiling as she did so.

"Don't apologize," Harry said reassuringly. "I didn't think you knew you were doing it…are doing it." Hermione gasped and covered her mouth again, but the soft rumbling continued, coming from deep within her chest, not through her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she said again, trying desperately to make it stop, but not succeeding. "I can't really control it. I guess it just means I'm happy to see you guys," she finally admitted, dropping her head shyly.

Harry smiled that bright, disarming smile of his that made his green eyes twinkle. He said, "I….um…we were happy to see you, too. I'm glad you're getting better. I can't wait until you can come to classes with us again. It's not the same without you there, Hermione."

"Thanks, Harry," she said, blushing even more as the purring got louder and deeper. "Sorry!" she whispered again, hiding her face behind her curls.

"Stop saying you're sorry," Harry urged, putting his hand on hers. "I think it's kind of cute…," he said with a smirk and a squeeze to her hand. Then he added in a softer voice she barely heard, "…like you." She looked up with wide eyes. Had she heard right? Did Harry just call her cute? She wanted to see if he was telling the truth or just having one on with her, but all she saw were the tails of his robes as he dashed out the door.

Madame Pomfrey came by a few minutes later to check on all the beds in the ward. The aging school healer smiled as she approached Miss Granger's bed. She'd seen the way the three friends interacted, and noticed that Mr. Potter stayed for a few minutes after the youngest Weasley boy left. She didn't hear what Potter said, but given the volume of the purring and the stupid grin still splitting the girl's face, it was definitely something Miss Granger liked hearing. Moments like this reminded Poppy of how much she enjoyed working around young people.


	2. Chapter 2

One Summer Holiday

"Hey Harry!" Ron greeted his friend at the door to the Burrow, the Weasley family home. Harry noted that the lanky redhead had grown even taller in the last few months since summer holiday began. "Everyone's in the garden," Ron said leading Harry through the kitchen. "Dad's putting on a 'bar-bee-key-oo'," he laughed. "He saw a Muggle charcoal grill on his way to work at the Ministry and he just had to try it. Fred and George lost their eyebrows trying to light the ruddy thing without magic. They're using something called lighter fluid and matches. Dad wants it to be a real Muggle experience. Mom even went shopping at the Muggle greengrocers for the event. Here, help me with these," he said piling several sacks of crisps into Harry's arms, then picking up a platter of buns of all shapes from the counter.

They walked out the door into the garden. The whole family was there, even Percy. Several of Ron's brothers and their father were gathered around the grill, bent over in concentration, arguing heatedly about whether to spray the coals with lighter fluid before or after applying a match. The rest of the family was at the large table. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were busy putting serving spoons into large bowls of salad and pudding. A few more of Ron's brothers were trying to steal samples of the food, but were currently having their hands slapped by Mrs. Weasley.

There was also another person that Harry didn't immediately recognize. She had her back to him and was bending over a cutting board, slicing onions and tomatoes with a large knife. From where he was standing, Harry could tell she was beautiful. She was wearing stylish, skinny jeans over her nicely shaped legs, and a tight t-shirt over an equally nicely shaped upper body. Her long, brown hair fell in soft curls over her shoulders, hiding her face from his ogling eyes. Teenaged Harry was thrilled to see a hint of lace above the low riding top of her jeans as she bent over.

Harry leaned closer to Ron and started to whisper, "Who's the ba…?" Just then Mrs. Weasley saw him and called out his name.

"Harry!"

The beautiful stranger stood up and turned around, also calling out his name, smiling brightly, "Harry!"

"Hermione?" Harry gaped, breathless at the stunning young woman in front of him.

"Done a bit of growing up, our Hermione has," Ron whispered to Harry, not taking his eyes off the teenaged girl as she ran toward them and gave Harry a big hug.

"Yeah," mouthed Harry back at Ron, over Hermione's shoulder, a goofy grin on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: This one is much more mature (yup sex is involved), though I think it's still a "T" rating. Definitely non-canon._

In the Tent

"When?" he asked.

"When what?" she chuckled, looking at him sprawled on the camp bed on which they had just made love, once again.

"When do you think we should have…could have…you know…gotten together?"

Hermione smiled, getting a whistful look in her eye. "Harry, I've been in love with you since I met you on the train first year."

"Hermione! We were eleven years old!"

"Oh, but you were so cute! And so shy," she laughed, trying to button up her blouse, but finding that half the buttons were missing. "Besides," she continued, walking over to reach into her beaded bag and rummaging around in it's depths for new clothes, "girls mature earlier than boys."

"I did love you that first year," he said thinking back. "I was just so happy to have friends finally. But I didn't think of you in that way until later."

"When? The Yule Ball?" she jabbed. She'd often teased him and Ron about it taking the attentions of another boy, in this case the famous Quidditch player Viktor Krum, to make them realize she was a girl. She removed her ruined blouse and threw it at him before pulling on a t-shirt, one of his. It looked so much better on her, Harry thought. Then she produced a clean pair of panties from the bag and stepped into them.

"No," Harry said slowly, thinking back through the years. "I think it was third year. I was so mad at you for telling McGonagall about my broom from Sirius that we didn't talk for weeks."

"I remember," Hermione said with a sad look on her face. "I'm sorry I made you angry with me."

"No," he said taking her hand. "I was never really mad at you. I knew even then that you were right to do what you did. We all thought Sirius was after me then, even Dumbledore thought it…that Sirius belonged to You-Know-Who. Quidditch was the only fun thing I had and I didn't want it taken away. I was being greedy, selfish, stupid. Anyway, I missed you so much. I kept thinking about what you would do in each situation. It was then that I realized how much I needed you in my life. When we finally made up, I was so happy. The next time you hugged me, I um…you know…really liked it. That's when I realized you were a girl."

Hermione laughed and pushed him back onto the cot, lying on top of him. They kissed tenderly. "Come to think of it," he said after awhile. "You were always hugging me over the years."

Hermione blushed, putting her head down on his bare chest. "I wanted you to touch me so much, for so long. Any excuse to have you in my arms," she sighed.

"I know you loved me first year, but when did you start thinking of me…in that way?" he asked, brushing several stray curls from her face. She blushed deeper.

"It was after our second year, over summer holidays. I missed you so much. Mum used to tease me because I was constantly talking about you. I had a picture of you in my room at home that I kept under my pillow. I would bring it out every night and think about you. Sometimes I'd worry you were okay, other times I'd remember good times we had together in school. Sometimes I'd…." she paused, blushing furiously and hiding her face against his chest.

"You'd what?" Harry asked gently.

Hermione lifted her head, boldly looking into his twinkling green eyes. "I would touch myself, thinking about you. Wishing you were there in my bed with me, touching me." Harry smiled and reached down between their bodies, sliding a hand into her panties.

"Touch you like this?" he asked with a smirk, his fingers finding her sensitive place with a now practiced ease. Hermione gasped and nodded, biting her lower lip and rolling her eyes back. They kissed and Harry proceeded to demonstrate to Hermione just how much he had learned about pleasing her. Reality was much better than her schoolgirl fantasies.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: This one is a bit more angsty._

Year Seven

It was two days after "the Battle of Hogwarts", as the Daily Prophet had dubbed the fight that resulted, finally, in the demise of Voldemort, along with the deaths of countless others, on both sides. Hermione had enough of death and enough of being one of the "heroes" of the day. She was physically and emotionally exhausted. She'd spent the last two days helping others: helping the Weasley's cope with the loss of Fred, helping Mrs. Tonks with the loss of her daughter and son-in-law, helping Madame Pomfrey tend to the wounded and preparing to send them to St. Mungo's, helping Professor McGonagall organize the relief effort in the midst of the chaos of the castle's destruction, and most importantly, helping Harry, who'd suffered more than anyone, to avoid the attention of the entire Wizarding World and to find a little peace and quiet for himself.

But where was the peace and quiet for Hermione Granger? She looked at her watch. It was only three o'clock in the afternoon. Three more hours before she could break for dinner. Hermione heaved a sigh of resignation as she moved to another bed in the Hospital Wing, checking to see if its occupant was being tended to properly. Suddenly she felt a tap on the shoulder. She turned, expecting it to be yet another duty placed on her already sagging shoulders. Instead she found no one there. Shaking her head at her imagination playing tricks on her, she turned back to the bed. The tapping on her shoulder repeated, but this time it was accompanied by a voice.

"Hermione!" whispered the voice of Harry Potter, coming out of the thin air behind her. "Meet me over in that alcove next to Pomfrey's office." Hermione cracked a tired smile and nodded. Flipping through her clipboard, she pretended to have forgotten a piece of important paperwork and walked nonchalantly towards the head healer's office. As she passed the deep alcove, an invisible hand reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into the shadows.

"Harry!" she hissed, but her irritation was tempered by amusement. She felt like a little kid again, sneaking around behind the adults' backs. Her best friend's face appeared, floating in mid-air, as he pulled the invisibility cloak off his head.

"You look terrible," he said, his smile turning to a frown of concern.

"Thanks a lot," Hermione responded, her irritation growing again. "No worse than you, though."

"Maybe not," Harry said, reaching a hand up to hold her shoulder reassuringly. "But I did get a good night's sleep last night. When was the last time you slept?"

"I got a few hours this morning," she said defensively.

"I mean really slept?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "Sixth year, right before Dumbledore died."

Harry laughed, but not convincingly. Her attempt at a joke was too close to the truth for either of them to enjoy it. He pulled the Cloak of Invisibility off and threw it around her shoulders. In response to her quizzical look, he said, "You need it more than I do right now. Go get some rest."

"But I've got rounds to do, people are hurt and need my help."

"You can't help them if you're asleep on your feet," Harry said, shaking his head and looking at her with nothing but concern on his face. "Besides, I can help. Me appearing here will provide enough distraction that you can get away."

"There you go," Hermione chuckled, "saving people again."

"You know your problem, Hermione?" he asked with a crooked smile. "You've got a saving people thing, too. Lord knows you've saved me countless times over the years. This time save yourself a little bit. You've earned it." She nodded in reluctant acceptance and started to pull the cloak up over her head. Harry smiled and said, "Go to the Room of Requirement, that's where I've been hiding out. It'll provide what you need most."

"Thanks, Harry," came Hermione's voice from thin air. With that Harry stepped out into the Hospital Wing and the expected chaos of cheers and calls for his attention echoed through the large room. Under cover of the noise, Hermione slipped out the door and headed to the seventh floor.

On the way up, she thought warmly about her best friend. Even after all that had happened, he was still looking out for her. Then she wondered where her boyfriend, Ron, was, and whether he'd like to join her in a little mid-afternoon nap. The last few days had been odd, not spending every moment of her life with the two boys, now men, who'd defined her very existence for the last seven years. She fantasized about the future, as she climbed the shifting stairways through the castle. She pictured picnics in a sunny meadow with Ron, with Harry and Ginny, with the four of them surrounded by a half a dozen children with some with red and some with black hair. In her mind's eye they were all laughing and happy.

Hermione walked back and forth in front of the hidden entrance to the Room of Requirement. A simple wooden door appeared and she opened it, expecting to find a comfortable sitting room, or even a bedroom to relax in, or, she suddenly hoped beyond hope, a jetted bathtub. Instead she found an small sparse room, empty save for a single object in the center. It was a tall, free-standing mirror. On the wooden frame of the looking glass were the words, "_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." _ It was the Mirror of Erised!

Hermione stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She smiled, remembering that both Harry and Ron told her the inscription was some language they didn't understand. Silly boys, it was obvious the words were written backwards. _"I show not your face, but your heart's desire."_ Well, she thought, they were just eleven when they saw the mirror, so maybe she should go easy on them.

Awakened by curiosity, Hermione stepped in front of the glass. She remembered that in their first year Harry saw his parents in the mirror, his heart's desire. And Ron said he saw himself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. She chuckled again. That was the Ron she remembered. She wondered what Harry and Ron would see now, after all the hardships and trials they had survived in the intervening six years. So much had changed. Mostly, she wondered what she would see.

The first images the mirror showed Hermione made sense to her. She alone stood there, looking a few years older than she was now, her hair tamed and in a bun, wearing an attractive suit, like a successful business woman, or a lawyer. Then two older people stepped into view, hugging her and each other, looking out at her with pride on their faces. "Mum and Dad!" she gasped with a smile. They didn't look at all angry with her for having erased their memories and sending them off to Australia.

Then her mother beckoned to someone out of the frame. A young boy of about four years ran up and grabbed her hand, looking up adoringly at her. He was followed by a girl, maybe a year or two younger with curly hair, who shyly ran up and then hugged her knees tightly. Hermione looked from the images of the children up to her own face. Her reflection looked down and in her arms Hermione saw a newborn baby. She couldn't tell if it was a girl or boy. These were her children! The three adults all looked at the young ones with love and happiness. Then Hermione's mother beckoned to the side again.

That's when the mirror stopped making any sense. A young man joined the group. He smiled and waved out of the mirror at her, then bent to pick up the girl, who hugged and kissed him enthusiastically. Then the man leaned in and kissed the Hermione in the mirror, who smiled and looked at him lovingly.

Hermione in the real world gasped in disbelief, "No! It can't be real! That's not what I desire." Then she turned and fled from the room, not stopping until she stood in the Astronomy Tower. Leaning over the railing and looking out over the expansive view of the Forbidden Forest and Black Lake, she gasped for breath, fighting back tears. "It can't be real…," she repeated over and over again. She sank to the floor and put her face in her hands. "It can't be real…can it?" she said through her tears.

In the mirror the children, her children, all had black hair, and the man, her husband, the father of her future children, also had black hair. On his forehead was a fading scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. The mirror showed her heart's desire. Would she listen to it?


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Kind of long for a drabble, but it just popped into my head the other night. Pure Harry-Hermione fluff. You can take it as canon-compliant, or not. Your choice._

The Summer of 1998, After the Fall of Voldemort

"It's just like flying!" Harry shouted as he leaned low over the handlebars and pedaled faster, zooming past Hermione with a whoop of glee as they cycled down a long hill. She laughed happily at his childish delight, then groaned, blowing at a curl of sweaty hair that had escaped her helmet to fall across her eyes. Shifting gears as the hill bottomed out and the grade began to rise again, she struggled to keep up with the fast pace he was setting as they cruised along on their bicycles over the hilly byways of Scotland.

It all started a few weeks ago, while they were both staying with the Weasleys. Months earlier, right after the final battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, Hermione fetched her parents from Australia and spent a couple of months with them after restoring their memories. By late July, however, she was back at the Burrow, unable to stay away from "her boys", no make that "her men", who were the centre of her life for the last seven years. Ron, of course, lived there, and Harry was staying with the Weasleys while he figured out where he wanted to live, not really wanting to be alone. Her Mum and Dad understood their daughter's need to be with them, letting her go to the Burrow with a promise to visit home more regularly. Now that they had her back, memories and all, they didn't want to lose her again. She felt the same way and knew that she would be keeping that promise this time.

While helping Molly around the house one day, Hermione made an offhand comment about the brewing of a certain household potion being "like riding a bicycle", meaning that even though she hadn't made that potion since her sixth year in school, the details would come back to her once she started. Harry, who was helping her, grumbled under his breath that he never learned to ride a bicycle. He hadn't intended for her to hear him, but she had. Frowning, she let his comment pass, but it gnawed at her for the rest of the day and late into the night. She knew Harry's childhood with the Dursleys was one of deprivation, of both psychological and physical abuse. Just the thought of her best friend growing up without ever having someone teach him the basic Muggle skill of riding a bicycle made her both angry and sad. Even though he was turning eighteen, it was time someone gave the Boy- Who-Lived a chance at some real childhood fun.

She talked her idea over with Ron and Ginny. They both thought it a great plan, but expressed no interest whatsoever in taking part in its execution. She understood their reasons. Ron was too busy helping George with the shop. The surviving twin brother was just starting to come out of his shell months after Fred's death and Ron didn't want to endanger that by leaving. And Ginny, while still planning on joining Hermione in returning to Hogwarts for her seventh year, had her heart set on a career in Quidditch. She was working on a summer internship with the Holyhead Harpies and couldn't just ignore that. Their conflicts aside, Hermione was set on doing this for Harry. It was all up to her, but she was used to that.

On July 31st, Harry's birthday, the Weasley's held a party in the garden at the Burrow. He didn't want a big to-do, but Molly convinced him that a "small" gathering with just family would be acceptable. Though, by the end, with all the still-at-home Weasleys, plus Bill and Fleur, it was anything but small. Neville and the Lovegoods were invited, too, as was Andromeda and little Teddy, since Harry considered them family. The simple, but sumptuous dinner was followed by a delicious birthday cake, once again in the shape of a golden snitch. Harry looked thoughtful when he saw it, but covered his mixed feelings with a big smile and heartfelt thanks to Molly. Hermione quietly disappeared while Harry was opening his presents. He didn't notice her absence until all the gifts were given and the givers thanked. "Where's Hermione?" he asked, standing up and looking around for his bushy haired best friend.

"I'm right here, Harry," Hermione announced as she rounded the corner of the house, pushing a brand new touring bicycle. "I was just fetching your birthday present," she said proudly waving her hand over it like a Muggle quiz show hostess.

"A bicycle?" Harry said, lowering his voice as he stepped closer to her. "Hermione, I don't know how to ride a bicycle," he whispered, an embarrassed look in his green eyes.

"I know that, silly" she said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder and giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm going to teach you!" Harry smiled back at her with a curious mixture trepidation and delight.

The Weasleys and guests all gathered around, many of them having never gotten a close up look at the Muggle form of transportation. Hermione proceeded to explain how a bicycle worked to the pureblood witches and wizards. After she demonstrated by riding up and down the lane, everyone wanted to try. Several hours of hilarity ensued while everyone had to have a go. Many cushioning and levitation spells were used to prevent injuries and other disasters. Percy even resorted to apparating from the bicycle back to his seat at the table to avoid a collision with a tree. Surprisingly, Luna did the best, despite her claims of never riding before. "It reminds me of riding the thestrals," she declared.

The next morning Hermione woke to find Harry bending over her bed, shaking her. "Wha' time izzit?" she mumbled groggily, rubbing her face.

"Half past five," he said with an irritatingly bright voice. "You promised to give me my first lesson with my bicycle this morning."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean at the crack of dawn," she grumbled, throwing her pillow at him. Secretly, she was thrilled to see the eagerness in his eyes.

"But this way we can get a few hours in before the Weasleys wake up," he said, glancing meaningfully over at Ginny's bed. Hermione nodded in understanding. Until he felt comfortable on the bike, he didn't want to give the "Redheaded Ones" more opportunity to take the mickey out of him.

Ten minutes later they were alone on a secluded stretch of the road to Ottery St. Catchpole, the orange sunrise casting a picturesque backdrop. Hermione had brought along her own bicycle from home. She gave Harry a more thorough description of the theory of cycling. Then she spent an inordinately long time, to Harry at least, adjusting the seat and handlebars of his new bicycle to fit him, followed by a long lecture on safety and rules of the road, complete with illustrated pamphlets. "Hermione!" Harry finally shouted with a mixture of laughter and frustration. "Can't I just get on and try it?"

She relented with a smile and let him mount the bicycle. He fell the first time he tried to move, and fell the second time, and again the third. He fiercely refused to allow her to use any magic to keep him upright, declaring, "If an oaf like Dudley can learn to do this without magic, so can I!" By the fourth try he managed to stay upright for nearly a hundred feet until he tried to turn around and fell flat on his side. Hermione rode up and jumped off her bike with worry written all over her face and clenching at her heart when Harry stayed on the ground and rolled back and forth. She relaxed only when she saw that he had an ear-splitting smile and was laughing for joy at his accomplishment.

Thus began a week of daily early morning lessons, interrupted only once for two days by Arthur. In his insatiable curiosity regarding Muggle "contraptions", the Weasley patriarch took both their bicycles completely apart one night and couldn't figure out how to re-assemble them. Hermione's father had to be called in to the rescue, when even she couldn't tell the parts of one bicycle from the other. Mr. Granger took the opportunity to teach them about bicycle mechanics. Harry smiled to see where Hermione got her "know-it-all" personality. Despite that delay, and the occasional audience of redheaded Weasleys with their tendency for teasing, Harry managed to learn to ride his new bicycle rather quickly.

"I did it!" he cried with joy one day, jumping off the bike and twirling a laughing Hermione around in a big hug. It was a full week after starting, and he just managed to ride the entire several kilometre length of the road to Ottery St. Catchpole without falling once.

"Congratulations!" Hermione laughed, making him set her down before she got too dizzy.

"Thank you, Hermione! This was a great gift and you're the best teacher!" Giving her another quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, he jumped on his bike and rode away. She stood looking after him, a silly grin on her flush face, before mounting her own bike and chasing after him.

They started to take longer and longer rides, building Harry's confidence and both of their staminas. Hermione smiled to see how much he was enjoying it. It was time to give him the second part of his birthday present.

"What!" he exclaimed later that day as they sat under a tree having a picnic lunch. "You and I are going to ride all the way to Hogwarts? That's like a thousand kilometres away, isn't it?"

"823 kilometres, actually," she corrected, "depending on what route we take." He just stared at her. She smiled, seeing that beneath the layer of disbelief, he had a gleam of excitement in his bright green eyes. "I figure we can do at least 50 kilometres a day, with a few days in between for sightseeing and resting up, plus a few more accounting for bad weather," she continued. "So it should take us about three weeks. The only restriction is that I get there before school starts, so we'll have to leave next week. And I know your Auror training starts soon after. This trip will really get you in shape for that!" He was still staring at her with his mouth open, so she added, "Don't worry, my Mum and Dad used to bike all over the UK and Europe. They once did a ten week tour all the way from Lisbon to Rome, that's nearly twenty five hundred kilometres, more than half of it mountains! I've never been on such a long trip, but I have done some shorter ones with them for a week or two. They're actually talking about going back to Australia and taking a cycling tour next year. They helped me plan this one and said it should be a piece of cake in comparison. Besides, once we get to Hogwarts, you can apparate, or take the Express back to London." He looked somewhat reassured.

"Where would we stay?" Harry asked, apparently warming to the idea, and now worrying the details. "What would we do for meals?"

Hermione smiled, realizing she had him hooked now. "My parents used to camp along the way, and buy food at local markets."

"No more sleeping in a tent!" he said vehemently. "And no more mushroom soup," he added, giving her a sidelong glance, trying to cut his unexpectedly sharp response with a bit of humor. "Hermione?" he asked after a long pause, locking his green eyes with her brown. "If we're going to do this, I want to do it the Muggle way. No magic."

"That was my thought, too," Hermione said with a warm smile. "We can take a normal, Muggle tent as backup, but I've got the entire course plotted out so that we can stay at Muggle inns and hotels the whole way. And I've got a book of all the great pubs and restaurants where we can eat, too! We'll be burning a lot of calories every day, so we can basically eat anything we want."

"Good," he said before falling into contemplative silence again. He leaned back against the tree they were under and took a bite out of an apple, looking at the scenic countryside around them. "You know, despite riding the train between London and Hogwarts every year and all the moving around we did on our 'adventure'," he said thoughtfully, using their euphemism for the ten months of terror and flight on the horcrux hunt, "I still don't feel like I know or have seen the country I live in at all."

"There's no better way to see the UK than on a bicycle," Hermione said happily. "Oh, Harry, you'll love it. It'll be beautiful!"

"I know it will be beautiful," he said, smiling and looking at her warmly, causing her to blush again. It was obvious he wasn't talking about the countryside.

On the last day of August they stopped their bicycles on the top of a hill overlooking Hogsmeade village and the newly repaired Hogwarts beyond. They had done it! With only a few days of bad weather, three flat tires, and one scraped knee, together they had ridden the eight hundred odd kilometres from the Burrow to Hogwarts. Never once did they use magic. Never once were they chased by a Dark Lord or his evil minions. Never once did either of them wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmarish memory. And never once did anyone utter a word of complaint. It had been nothing but a wonderful, healing, and bonding experience for the both of them.

"Hermione?" she heard him say softly. Turning, she was surprised to see a tear glistening in his each of his green eyes. "Thank you," he said, his voice cracking. "Thank you for this. Thank you for everything. Now and before."

"Oh Harry," she exclaimed, reaching over and crushing him in a fierce hug.

"I'm going to miss you," he said into her ear, returning the hug.

"I'll miss you, too," she said back, her own tears now falling freely. "I don't know how I'll handle school without you and Ron, much less without having Death Eaters or giant snakes, or trolls after me."

"You'll do great," he said laughing back his tears. "You always do. You're not Head Girl for nothing, you know. Let alone Heroine of the Great War and winner of an Order of Merlin First Class."

"Oh shut up! You better write me, Harry Potter," she scolded, wagging a finger at him.

"Don't worry, I will," he promised, holding his hand up to make it an oath. "And let me know when Hogsmeade weekends are, and I'll come visit. Maybe bring Ron, if I can lure him out of the shop with the promise of Honeydukes and a visit to Madam Rosamerta," he teased.

"You better visit," she said, grabbing him in another hug and bursting into tears all over again. What was she going to do without her men?


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I never thought I'd write a song-fic, since I usually don't like them, but I heard the song on the radio and the scene just popped into my head. My wife has brown eyes, so it has special meaning to me. I guess I'm just getting really sappy in my old age. I hope someone besides me enjoys this drabble. I suggest you go listen to the song at youtube or elsewhere online before reading the story, so you have it running through your head, too (search for Van Morrison Brown Eyed Girl)._

Set during Harry's 6th year at Hogwarts

Harry was sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room working on the assignment for Slughorn's advanced potions class. For once the words seemed to be coming naturally and he finished the two foot essay with ease, even though the topic wasn't even one covered by the Halfblood Prince's notes in his battered textbook.

Harry started humming softly to himself as he proofread what he had written. He glanced up and saw Hermione smiling at him from across the table. There was a slight flush to her cheeks and she was looking at him with warmth in her brown eyes. He smiled back at her equally warmly before they both went back to their homework. Harry continued to hum the tune, but now Hermione joined him softly.

"What's that you guys are humming?" Neville asked from next to Hermione.

"Yeah," chimed in Ginny from the other end of the table where she was sitting with Dean. "It's kind of catchy. What is it? I don't think I've ever heard anything like it on the Wizarding Wireless."

"Oh you wouldn't have," said Hermione with another glance and smile at Harry. "It's an old Muggle pop song. My father used to sing it to me when I was little and I was fussing about going to sleep. I'm surprised you know it Harry, I didn't think your cousin Dudley's CD collection went much beyond heavy metal and rap."

"It doesn't," said Harry rolling up his parchment and stuffing it in his sack, "but my Aunt Petunia has an old record collection, lots of stuff from the 60s. I sometimes sneak a listen when they're all out of the house. That song became one of my favorites after I started coming to Hogwarts."

"How come?" Neville asked, not noticing the renewed blush on Hermione's face. Ginny did notice; however, and was frowning as she glanced between Harry and Hermione's almost identical smiles.

"Oh," Harry said not taking his eyes off Hermione, "because it reminds me of happy times." Hermione looked down shyly at that, which was also noted by Ginny.

"I recognize it, too," said muggle-raised Dean, earning a frown from Ginny. "My Dad used to sing it to my Mom when they were in a good mood. Sometimes they'd even dance around the kitchen." Dean smiled wistfully, remembering happy times as a child, watching his parents express their love for each other. "Van Morrison, isn't it?" Harry and Hermione both nodded in affirmation.

"Sounds like a popular song in the Muggle world," Neville said, curious. "How do the words go?"

"Why don't you sing it for us, Harry?" Ginny asked, a little too forcefully. This suggestion was greeted with a chorus of approval by everyone in the common room, who had begun listening to their conversation. Ron, sitting in an armchair by the fire with Lavender on his lap, even separated his mouth from hers to look over at their table.

"Oh, I don't know," Harry objected, blushing. "I don't have that great a voice. Besides, I'm not sure I can remember all the words."

"I'm sure Hermione and Dean can help if you get stuck," Ginny said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"Yeah," said Dean, nodding in agreement, not noting his girlfriend's snarky inflection.

Harry swallowed and looked around nervously, wondering how he could get out of embarrassing himself. Then his emerald eyes fell on the carmel eyes of his bushy haired best friend as she looked at him encouragingly. "Okay," he said with renewed bravery. He was a Gryffindor after all. Harry cleared his throat while Dean began beating a rhythm out on the table top with his hands. Hermione hummed the introduction to the song, nodding to Harry.

_Hey where did we go, days when the rains came _

Harry began softly, his voice cracking a little bit. He looked at Hermione and his confidence and volume grew.

_Down in the hollow, playin' a new game, _

_Laughing and a running hey, hey _

He frowned, trying to remember the words, but one look at his friend seemed to make the rest of the room disappear, the lyrics coming to his tongue without need for prompting now.

_Skipping and a jumping, in the misty morning fog_

_With our hearts a thumpin' and you, my brown eyed girl. _

_You, my brown eyed girl._

Hermione blushed, but her smile widened as he sang the title words, as if he were singing just to her. Standing up, Harry began walking around the table as he continued to sing.

_Whatever happened to Tuesday and so slow _

_Going down the old mine with a transistor radio _

_Standing in the sunlight laughing, _

_Hiding behind a rainbow's wall, slipping and sliding _

_All along the waterfall, with you, my brown eyed girl. _

_You, my brown eyed girl. _

Harry held out a hand to Hermione as he sang those words again. She stood and the two began dancing together.

_Do you remember when we used to sing: _

Harry beckoned to Dean and looked at Hermione. The two Muggle-borns smiled and laughingly joined him on the next line of nonsense words.

_Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da_

Harry laughed and enjoined them again.

_Just like that…_

All three of them sang together, while Harry twirled Hermione around. Dean grabbed Ginny and began dancing with her, too. Lavender pulled a reluctant Ron off the chair and started dancing around him while he just stared at Harry and Hermione with an unreadable look.

_Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da_

_La te da…_

Then Harry slowed his dancing down and looked more seriously at Hermione as he sang the next verses.

_So hard to find my way, now that I'm all on my own. _

_I saw you just the other day, my how you have grown, _

_Cast my memory back there, Lord sometime I'm overcome_

_Thinking 'bout making love in the green grass _

_Behind the stadium with you…_

Harry put his hand under Hermione's chin as he sang the next lines.

_My brown eyed girl _

_You, my brown eyed girl _

Once again, Dean and Hermione, sang along, now joined by several others in the room.

_Do you remember when we used to sing: _

_Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da_

Then it was just Harry and Hermione softly singing the last line again together, completely unaware of anyone else in the room.

_Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da_

_My brown eyed girl…_

The two stood quietly, no longer dancing, their arms wrapped around each other, green eyes locked with brown.

When it was obvious that Harry was done singing the room burst into raucus cheers and applause, including a few wolf whistles. The two separated, blushing strongly. They didn't notice the frowns on the Weasley siblings' faces as their other classmates clapped Harry on the back and congratulated him for his performance. Harry and Hermione were separated by the others, but a look passed between them that said they would be talking about this in private as soon as they could manage. The smile he saw on his brown-eyed girl's face told Harry it was going to be a good conversation.


End file.
